


Hammer and Sistrum

by sarahenany



Category: Astérix le Gaulois | Asterix the Gaul
Genre: Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, M/M, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 19:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3620988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahenany/pseuds/sarahenany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a banquet, Fulliautomatix unties Cacofonix. As he's been doing for some time now. It takes a while... But the bard clearly doesn't mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hammer and Sistrum

"All right, Cacofonix?"

The banquet was over. The villagers had weaved off to bed, in varying stages of inebriation; Geriatrix had been chivvied home by his lovely young wife, and Vitalstatistix shooed home by the redoubtable Impedimenta. Obelix, the last to leave, had heaved a huge yawn, taken the final boar with him and stumped off to Asterix's, still munching. He'd missed the roast boar Fulliautomatix had hidden under the tablecloth, the bard's share. Fulliautomatix had left the table, but he hadn't gone home yet. He knelt beside the big oak where he'd deposited the village bard, bound and gagged, a few hours earlier.

In response to Fulliautomatix's question, Cacofonix nodded. Behind his gag, his eyes were dreamy. Fulliautomatix felt a wave of affection for him. It was a shame he always insisted on singing, and nothing short of restraints would shut him up. He was a good sport about it, although angry that the village barbarians didn't appreciate his art. It was odd that he couldn't hear his own caterwauling for what it was; still, it wasn't his fault that he had a voice like a sistrum. And, as their druid had once remarked, Cacofonix was a good sort: an excellent sort, the best heart and the sweetest disposition under the sun. Fulliautomatix knew it as well as anyone.

Fulliatutomatix couldn't quite pinpoint the time he had started taking over the job of tying up the bard. He'd noticed that the others tied him clumsily, in a way that might injure his wrists or hands, especially for long periods. Despite his execrable voice, their bard actually had a beautiful touch when playing upon his lyre; but on the days after banquets, Fulliautomatix had noticed Cacofonix holding the instrument stiffly, as though his hands pained him. It had caused an uncomfortable ache in his chest. Their bard had the same resistance to being bashed over the head as all the village Gauls had, courtesy of the magic potion, but his slim, long-fingered musician's hands, so much more delicate than any of the other villagers', were clearly sensitive to having the blood-flow cut off for so long. And so, Fulliautomatix had made it his business to take over the job of tying up the bard so it wouldn't hurt him.

It hadn't been much of a job at first: he'd just made sure the man's hands and wrists weren't tied too tightly, and protected them with a soft cloth before winding the ropes round them. Then he'd hit upon the idea of cocooning Cacofonix in rope, so the pressure would be diffused, not concentrated in one area, and not damaging to his hands. Later, it had made sense, since he was the one who'd tied him up, for him to take over the job of untying Cacofonix himself. Fulliautomatix would assess the condition of the bard's hands, making sure they were all right, pressing and massaging them lightly while Cacofonix looked on in bemusement, then setting off home. Only he'd realized that the bard would be so stiff from being restrained for so long that he didn't have the dexterity needed to climb the long staircase leading up to his house, and more often than not – with his delicate constitution! – spent the night in the damp grass. That explained why he was often ill following banquets. Upon realizing this, Fulliautomatix had taken to carrying Cacofonix up to bed and making sure he was warm and dry. It had been worth the embarrassment of carrying him like a child and nursemaiding him to bed, to know that the skinny bard's health wouldn't suffer.

Then, the art of wrapping the ropes itself had started to exert a strange fascination over Fulliautomatix. He'd obtained a thick cord from Woolix the pedlar when he'd passed by the village, outwardly the same as the hempen ropes used for everything in the village, but of smoother texture. He had made the purchase in secret, for reasons he couldn't properly explain, not even to himself, although the worldly pedlar had winked and said something about a special gift for the missus. Fulliautomatix had no idea what Ferra could have to do with a smooth rope as thick as his finger. It certainly couldn't be used on any of her dresses.

It was when Cacofonix had first seen the smooth rope that his eyes had gleamed – again, for the life of him Fulliautomatix couldn't tell when. But there had been something hypnotic about it. Before, he'd just bopped the bard over the head and tied him up. This time, though, there was something. He wanted Cacofonix to – he didn't even know what. Bear witness? Be a party to the event? Fulliautomatix shook his head. Be a party to his own bondage? Had he, Fulli, gone completely insane? Who agreed to being tied up?

And yet, he'd come up to the bard at sunset, rope in hand. "It's the banquet," he'd said, and he had been surprised at how rough his own voice sounded. "I'm going to have to tie you up."

And instead of running or resisting, Cacofonix had met his eyes, and Fulliautomatix could swear he'd _smiled._ "I suppose you are."

Slowly, he'd wrapped the rope around the bard's hands, then arranged it in tightly parallel lines over all his upper body. Coil after coil had slipped into place, beautiful and regular like the lines from a potter's fingers over his creation, like the perfect curve of a horseshoe on the anvil, graceful like… like nothing he had ever seen. He could feel his hands shaking as he tied the knots. Every particle of his skin seemed to be quivering, as though he stood naked in a high wind.

Bound and beautiful, the bard stood before him. "I'm going to have to gag you," Fulliautomatix said, and the clear affection shining in Cacofonix's eyes made him want to weep.

Again that gentle smile. "I suppose you are." And then the bard bit his lower lip.

It was like opening a floodgate. Fulliautomatix's loins exploded with heat, passion roaring through his veins at his indomitable friend's willing submission, at the sensation betrayed by the little action of biting his lip. Just the sight of the man's white teeth pressing into his own soft flesh... The clarity in his blue eyes, the knowledge, the wisdom… He was grateful for his apron, concealing the bulge he knew could clearly be seen there. The bard saw it, though, and just smiled. Slyly.

He was still smiling when Fulliautomatix put the gag on him.

That had been the first time. Now, in the depth of the night, all the villagers gone to their respective beds, Fulliautomatix was free to admire his handiwork once again. The bonds were beautiful: tightly parallel, graceful lines delineating the slim contours of Cacofonix's body and arms. Fulliautomatix always loved to look at them: they were a work of art. He wished some traveling artist would come and draw them, draw Cacofonix tied up like that, wrapped tight and safe, waiting for Fulliautomatix to come and release him. Waiting for him to come. Waiting for him. Waiting.

Now, he drew near to the bard, sitting bound with his back up against a tree. In the flickering firelight, he thought he saw Cacofonix tremble. "Do you want me to untie you?" he whispered into his ear. He'd always done this, ever since the first time.

Like the first time, Cacofonix shook his head. His blue eyes shone with… _something._

"Well, I suppose you must enjoy being tied up then." Not waiting for an answer, Fulliautomatix ran his hands up and down the contours of the bard's bound torso and arms, enjoying the bumps and ridges of the smooth rope and the way they molded to his physique. "Do you like this? Being completely helpless? Knowing I can do with you whatever I want?"

The bard – audacious fellow! – _winked._

"Well," Fulliautomatix whispered into his ear, "snap your fingers if you want me to stop. Can you snap your fingers or are your hands too stiff? Show me."

Cacofonix obliged. The sound was audible enough that Fulliautomatix was confident he could hear it even in the heat of passion.

He slipped his finger between the ropes, just sliding along the breadth of Cacofonix's body, making him gasp. He wasn't even touching anywhere particularly sensitive, just playing, enjoying the sensation, enjoying more how the slim bard squirmed and wriggled under his touch. There was an interesting bulge forming in Cacofonix's white trousers, and Fulliautomatix made a point of 'accidentally' brushing it with his elbow as he explored the bonds, enjoying the shudder and groan the touch elicited. "Tie you up… make you mine… all to myself…" His hands roamed below the bonds, cupping the small handfuls of Cacofonix's arse. He grinned at the way the bulge in Cacofonix's trousers twitched and jumped as he did so. Unable to resist, Fulliautomatix lowered his head, opened his mouth wide and covered it completely, fabric and all. Cacofonix stiffened and groaned beneath him. He mouthed the twitching, hot phallus, hands reassuringly grasping Cacofonix's bound elbows, then slipped his hands lower, cupping the delightfully round and firm arse cheeks. Knowing from experience that Cacofonix liked a little sting, he gripped each cheek painfully hard, digging his fingers in and making Cacofonix moan into the gag. The erection in his mouth twitched with the increased arousal. "Like that, do you?" Fulliautomatix mumbled around his mouthful, not really caring about how clearly his words came out. "I'll mark you..." he pinched the pretty cheeks, then rubbed the sore places where he had pinched, one hand devoted to teasing and torturing each smooth, perfect mound, loving how the man twitched and groaned under his touch, "...so you can't sit down for a week without thinking of me." He centered his fingers at the undercurve of each perfect cheek, and slowly, gradually, pinched the smooth flesh between both thumbs and forefingers, a hard, punishing pinch that was sure to leave a bruise that the bard would feel, throbbing, every time he sat down. The writhing and pulsing beneath him indicated that Cacofonix was about to climax from the combination of the stimulation and the rough treatment, and Fulliautomatix quickly lifted his head. Too early for that, yet: he had a lot more in store for his bard.

Laying him down carefully on the small, grassy hump below the tree, head raised – after all, he wanted Cacofonix to see what was happening – Fulliautomatix started gradually pushing aside the tight rows of ropes around the bard's chest. Although he was skinny, Cacofonix had a clearly defined chest, and even beneath his checkered tunic, it was easy enough to tell when he had uncovered the pectorals. The ropes weren't that tight, but their pressure was such that they compressed the little band of flesh Fulliautomatix had exposed into a plump, tempting bulge that just cried out to be touched. The small nubs of his nipples, like the rest of the bard's skin, oversensitized from being in contact with the ropes for so long, pushed up tight against the blue-and-white fabric.

"Hmm…" Fulliautomatix just surveyed the band of bound flesh, clearly delineated by the ropes, smiling mock-evilly. The aroused heaving of Cacofonix's chest inflamed him all the more, Cacofonix looking at him earnestly, begging for his touch. He wanted to tease, though. "Try to get away."

The blue eyes blinked, clearly saying _But I don't want to,_ then cleared as understanding dawned. Cacofonix began to wriggle. Fulliautomatix sat back and enjoyed the show. He palmed his own erection as he watched his beautiful, tightly bound friend writhing on the grass, the ropes growing tighter as he – Toutatis, the little tease! – caused them to mold closer to his body. They pulled close to his chest, squeezing the band of his nipples tighter, making them seem as though they would burst out of the fabric.

Unable to stand it any longer, Fulliautomatix lunged for him. "I think you need to be punished for trying to escape," he growled deep in his throat, and flicked his tongue over one swollen nipple, feeling the linen fabric of Cacofonix's tunic scrape across it as he did so. In response, Cacofonix actually _squealed._ It was a good thing the bard was gagged, Fulliautomatix thought, flicking one nipple, then the other, the flesh squeezed tight by the ropes, extra vulnerable and super-sensitive. "Have you had enough? Will you try to escape again?" Fulliautomatix growled as he reached out to pinch the swollen nubbins hard, making the bard's whole body buck, his heels pounding into the ground as he moaned and yelled into the gag.

Suddenly, Cacofonix snapped his fingers. "What? What is it?" Fulliautomatix stopped immediately, the gag lifted in an instant. "Do you want to stop? Are you well?"

The bard nodded and smiled breathlessly, eyes dreamy, pupils blown. "Just.. sharp stone… under me…"

Fulliautomatix sagged in relief. "Oh." He ran his hand under Cacofonix—"Ow." Yes, there it was, under his left shoulder. Evil little bugger. He grabbed it, rubbing his friend's thin shoulder comfortingly where the stone had hurt him, and nearly tossed it away… then had a thought. "I could punish you more, you know." He saw the bard's half-smile before he pulled the gag back down in place. He unlaced the blue-and-white tunic, pulling it apart, leaving the ropes in place. By Belenos, the man's chest was squeezed up between the ropes into a plump bulge almost like the swell of a woman's breast. Very, very lightly, he used the sharp stone to prick the very tip of Cacofonix's nipple.

"Ah," said the bard.

That sound drove Fulliautomatix insane. He pounced, ripping the gag off, covering Cacofonix's mouth with his own, kissing him hard as he pricked the swollen flesh around his poor delicious abused nipples, jutting out between the ropes and begging for his touch. His friend was wild beneath him, writhing and thrusting his lower body against his, gyrating with all the natural flexibility the gods had given him. "Do you like being punished? Do you?" He tossed the stone aside and flicked his thumbs back and forth over the stiff nubs of flesh, his mouth swallowing cacofonix's cries as he punished his nipples, flicking them back and forth and pinched them, now softly, now roughly, until his friend was almost sobbing beneath him. He curled an arm around Cacofonix's back, splaying his hand comfortingly against him. "Do you want it this time?" he murmured. His friend did not always enjoy doing as the Romans did, especially as Fulliautomatix was powerfully built, and the bard, unlike Fulliautomatix's wife Ferra, was not a devotee of the giant phallus.

Cacofonix hesitated.

That was all Fulliautomatix needed: not this time, then. Not that it mattered: there were pleasures here enough for an army. He slid down the length of Cacofonix's body and hooked his fingers into the drawstring of his trousers, pulling them down easily. The bard's erection, which had begun to flag at Fulliautomatix's question, jumped to full attention as Fulliautomatix bent to him, enclosing it in his hot mouth. Cacofonix cried out – his voice, so execrable when singing, strangely pleasing when he moaned – and thrust upwards. Fulliautomatix plunged his hand into the jar of boar fat he had brought with him, and slipped a slick finger behind the bard, holding it at his entrance. He had planned to tease him, but jerked in surprise as Cacofonix thrust against his finger, impaling himself along half its length before he had time to prepare. "You little…" he grinned around the bard's phallus. Slowly, prolonging it, he drove his finger in, touching the most sensitive spots, working Cacofonix from front and rear, feeling strangely warmed and intimate at having this much control, at the trust Cacofonix allowed him. The bard was sobbing with arousal. Feeling as though the very hairs on his head were prickling with joy at giving this man pleasure, Fulliautomatix tightened his lips and closed his tongue and cheeks tight and hot, and moved his finger just so, and flicked his other hand across the bard's chest one final time as Cacofonix came with a stuttering gasp of pleasure, sweeter than anything he had ever sung. Which, admittedly, wasn't saying much. But it warmed Fulliautomatix's soul, filling him with such tenderness he thought he would expire from it.

As Cacofonix lay spent and panting, Fulliautomatix made short work of the ropes, so his friend could breathe freely, and pulled his white trousers carefully back up. "What about… you?" Cacofonix managed to say.

Fulliautomatix smiled, more than satisfied at the sight of the bard so completely reduced to putty. "I think," he grinned, "I shall save myself for marriage, this time." For some reason, Ferra was always waiting for him after each banquet, ready and eager for him.

Cacofonix's head made a small, amused thud as it hit the ground. "Oh well, my loss…"

"I can wait," Fulliautomatix said seriously.

"Oh, no," Cacofonix smiled the smile of the well and truly sated. "I'm going to sleep."

"What, here?"

"Can't move…"

"The Hades you will," grumbled Fulliautomatix, scooping the bard up in his arms. "You're worse than my kids. I'm making sure you spend the night in bed, under decent covers. Else you'll catch your death of cold in the morning dew, and then you'll sound even more like a sistrum than usual."

"I'll have you know my voice could charm the birds off the trees."

Fulliautomatix snorted. "Only if they fell off the branches dead of a heart attack."

The bard rolled his eyes in resignation. "You don't know what you're missing. That in itself is punishment enough for you!"

His voice was weak, and that worried Fulliautomatix. "Can you stand?" he asked softly.

"Maybe not just yet," said Cacofonix, a little embarrassed.

"Sorry about that. Come on."

Fulliautomatix cradled the bard more securely against his chest, and started up the long, winding staircase up to his house in the treetop, Cacofonix in his arms. He nudged the door open with his shoulder, and bent to lay the bard gently down upon his bed. "There," he muttered unnecessarily, squeezing the man's stiff shoulders for a moment. "Hang on." He sprinted down the stairs, retrieved Cacofonix's lyre and the roast boar he'd saved for him, and jogged up again. "Your boar's in the pantry," he called as he set it down, "and your lyre's here, on its hook." He came back to the bed. "Now let's see your hands."

Without waiting for an answer, he lifted the bard's long, slim right hand, a little pale and swollen from the restraints, and sandwiched it flat between both of his, pressing gently. The sigh of relief from Cacofonix healed something he hadn't known was hurting him, and he kept up the pressure massage until the hand was warm and pink again, then repeated the treatment with the left. Satisfied Cacofonix would be all right, he drew the blanket up to his chin, tucking it in around him. "Good night."

Cacofonix smiled up at him, looking warm, sleepy and secure. "I'd sing for you," he murmured, "but you're a barbarian."

"And you like me for it."

"No, I like you for…" The bard yawned, big and happy. "…for other reasons…"

"Right." On an impulse, Fulliautomatix smoothed back the bard's hair affectionately. "Sleep well."

The bard closed his eyes with a grin. "Good night."

"Good night."

Ferra watched from behind the bush as the pair disappeared up the staircase. She had just enough time to get back home, assume a seductive position and pretend to have been waiting up all night. She'd started to really, really love banquet night. Who would have thought that the Pax Romana would have brought this most interesting of Roman ways back here, to their little village? If the other women hadn't been such gossips, she could most certainly have sold tickets to these little post-banquet events. She grinned slyly. She still could… But this was her little secret, and her Fulliautomatix was all hers. And occasionally, if he and the bard fooled around together in the Roman style, well, Ferra didn't mind sharing. Not when she stood to gain, either way.


End file.
